


Only You

by theunknownfate



Series: Only You [1]
Category: Strange Magic (2015), Strange Magic - Fandom
Genre: Antennae, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Pheromones, Sex Pollen, butterfly bog, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to write the fic you want to read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He heard Marianne before he saw her. She was calling for him and the urgency in her voice sent his welcome smile fading away. She wasn’t in sight, so he flew upwards for a better vantage point. He caught a flash of violet from her wings through the leaves. Marianne was flying as hard as she could go, a bright streak through the dim underbrush of the Forest. She called his name again, almost screaming it this time. 

Something was wrong. Something was after her. Something truly horrible if it could make the scrappy princess run from it. It should’ve amused him, but a fierce blaze of protectiveness flared up instead. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be allowed to hurt her, and it would pay for frightening her. She was coming to him for help and she would have it.

“Marianne!” he shouted, zipping down to meet her. He spun the staff, letting the stone in it catch the light and flash so she could see it. She jinked out of her beeline to his place and went straight for him. He flared his wings to slow down when he realized she wasn’t going to. He almost had to dodge and grab her as she went by to keep her from plowing into him. 

She wrapped all around him, arms, legs, even wings. He wrapped his arms around her and scanned the Forest on all sides, on high alert for whatever was after her. There wasn’t anything immediately in sight. Her whole body was shaking and she was gasping for air. She had come a long way at high speed. 

“It’s all right,” he growled softly. He tucked his wings and dove back under cover, keeping her held tight to his chest. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t,” she said, her voice muffled against his throat. “Let…” He wasn’t going to ‘let’ anything happen to her. He snarled over her head at the still-empty Forest and ducked through the briar patch just to be sure it would be hard to follow them. Once clear, he put on some speed of his own to get back inside his new fortress. It wasn’t complete yet, but it would be before winter. It wouldn’t repel a full invasion, but his personal chambers were behind sturdy doors. He went there first, alerting guards on the way to defend the walls.

Stuff ran to see what the mushrooms had seen and Thang scuttled off to rally the other goblins. The Bog King wanted Marianne safe before he went out to check on things. He got inside and locked the door. There was only a little light in there and he kept it that way, hoping the dark would help her feel as safe as it did him. 

“There, love,” he said. He sat down with her. “Safe and sound.” She was still breathless and only made a little sound. He felt light little touches all over his face and allowed it. “Tell me what happened,” he said. Her hands tightened under his arms which made him pay more attention to what was running over his cheek bones and chin. He looked down and saw that she had two antennae poking out of her wild hair. They were indigo colored, slim and jointed enough to let them flick gently at his skin. 

“Marianne?” he asked. He remembered once when he had been running his fingers through her hair as they kissed and he had felt something. They were just little nubs on her scalp, smooth and hard as her fingernails. He hadn’t thought anything of it. He was covered in hard edges and sharp ridges after all. It made sense that even under that soft fluffy hair there was unexpected strength. That was true of all of her. The antennae were new, though. 

Was that why she was upset? He tried to think if he had seen any of the other fairies with antennae. He wasn’t sure if he had. Did they mean something to fairies? Were they not supposed to have them? His grip tightened a little as his protective instincts flared white hot with sudden rage. Had someone _insulted_ them? Insulted _**her**_?? He would tear out their eyes for that!

She made a little noise and he relaxed his arms again so as not to hurt her. He had to stay calm so he wouldn’t make this worse. Deep, calming breaths, he reminded himself. In his arms, she was settling down too. She hadn’t let go of him, but she was only quivering a little now, and her breathing was deeper and slower as well. 

“Hey,” he said, nudging her with his chin so that she would look up at him. “Look. It’s only me.” She did, and her eyes were warm and glazed. Her antennae traced down his face like tear tracks and stroked over his lips.

“Only you,” she agreed. She shivered and her eyes closed. He was baffled when she sucked in a shaky breath and then whispered, “Oh, I can _taste_ you…”


	2. Chapter 2

“What?” he said after a moment of being utterly tongue-tied. The antennae flicked up under his nose, leaving the faintest whiff of something sweet. She purred a little as they went over his lips again. She sometimes made that noise when they kissed, so he carefully slid his hands up her back to cup her face. Her eyes were still closed but she was smiling dreamily. There wasn’t any pink gleam of the love potion dust on her, and she had resisted that before, but something had left her this way.

“Tell me what happened to you,” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to the antennae tip, as gently as he could. He didn’t know how sensitive they were and just that little touch made her stiffen and arch closer.He ran his fingers up into her hair and rubbed around the base, where the little nubs had been. She moaned and shuddered, her fingers scrabbling to pull herself tighter against him. Her hips moved in helpless nudges. It left him shivering and gasping too. Just to see her react that way, to know that it was his touch sending her into such ecstasies flooded him with tingling warmth. 

He had to stop, though. This felt too much like the love potion even though their real love should’ve been immune. He pulled his hands back into her hair and held her while he leaned out of the reach of the antennae. She whined a little and had to open her eyes to see what was happening. 

“Don’t stop!” she said. “I want it to be you.”

“Want what to be me?” She bit her lip and ground her hips a little harder. “Marianne!” he insisted and she refocused. “Who was after you?”

“Everyone,” she said. “When, when this happened?” She pointed upwards, at the antennae. “Everyone knew and they, they try-“

“Knew what? Tried what?” He was losing his temper and didn’t want her to think it was at her. “Tell me!”

“It isn’t supposed to happen anymore,” she said, gulping to keep her voice working. “We, we evolved past it, but-“

“But what?!” Staying out of her reach wasn’t working. Trying to touch him kept distracting her from what she was saying. He gave a little buck to squirm back some more and froze when her head fell back with a groan. He thought he had hurt her, but she went back to rubbing against him. 

“Tonight,” she gasped. “Full moon. I was, I wanted-“

The smell was getting stronger. She was giving it off as she got more frantic. It was like something fresh and sweet in the distance and it was nothing at all like primrose, so it didn’t worry him as much as it might have. 

“I was planning,” she forced the words out, taking deep breaths. It didn’t stop her from rocking against him. He held her hips to keep her steady. “I thought that. Full moon? We could. Maybe. It could. Be the night?”

“Tonight,” he said. His eyes widened. “You wanted-“

“You,” she panted. “I was, I was thinking about it and, and planning and it, it tingled.” She ran her own hands up to the spots. 

“Oh,” he whispered. 

“And,” she said, squirming against his body and her own hands. “And when I tried to rub them? They just unfolded, like your ferns and I could feel everything and I could taste everything and ohhhhh.” She swayed and he held her up. 

“Why did you run?” he asked her.

“I wanted you!” she said. “Only you.”

As much as that melted him to hear, it still left him with some suspicions. Marianne didn’t run from anything. Even as addled and overheated as she was, nothing should have frightened her. 

“Did someone try to touch them? Touch you?” Just the thought made him vibrate with killing rage. “To force you??”

“Everyone was looking at me,” she said. “I could _smell_ them looking at me. Even my _Dad_ lit up a little bit. When he saw it was me, he froze and he, he tried to stop the others, but I couldn’t bear-“ Her voice got small and he hated it. He would have rather her been howling with fury than meek. “They knew I was, I was ready. And I couldn’t risk that one of them might-” She struggled with the next word, then gave up. “So I ran.” 

“To me.” He leaned in to hug her tightly. She wrapped all around him again, the antennae frantic over his face as if they wanted to be sure it really was him and not one of those strangers holding her. He growled softly as another wave of the scent swept over them. It was easy to lean back and take her with him, even easier to roll carefully over. He made sure her wings weren’t going to be crumpled and eased his weight over on her. She squirmed a little, but not to get away. 

He pinned her in with his wings and arms, leaning low over her to block out any sight or scent that wasn’t his. It did seem to calm her. She kept her legs around him, but the rest of her relaxed. Even the busy antennae moved slower over him. 

“It’ll be awhile before the moon rises,” he whispered to her, kissing up her throat to her ear. “Tell me more about these.” He ran his tongue up one antennae just to watch the face she made. “Are they permanent? Because-“ He ran his thumb up one and blew gently on the one that was damp from his tongue. “That-“ He stroked them both from base to tip. “Could-“ He kissed his way down her face. “Be-“ She was in such raptures from his fingers on the antennae that he wasn’t sure she noticed the light kiss on her lips. “Distracting…”

He grinned a little at the sounds she was making but had mercy and let his fingers slide into her hair instead. She hooked her arms around his head and kissed him like she wanted to crawl inside his skin with him. He still worried that it was the new pheromones making her act like this, but she had said she wanted to before it happened, which sent prickles of heat swirling under his skin. To be wanted thrilled him. To be wanted enough that she had blown the fluff off every dandelion between here and there to get to him before anyone else could touch her filled him to bursting with emotions he didn’t have names for. 

He rumbled at her, just a soft, protective sound deep in his chest. She sighed into it, stroking his shoulders and arms. He didn’t know what she liked about that. He hoped she wouldn’t snag her skin on any sharp pieces. Her clothing was all smooth leaves and soft petals, as sweet to touch as her skin. 

“I’m hoping,” she said, when she came up for air. “That when they are-“ She blushed, but being safe and loved had eased her frenzy. “Satisfied.” He felt blood rush to his face too. “They’ll curl up and go back to normal.” She plucked gently at the edges of some of his armor. “I’m also hoping this will come off.”


	3. Chapter 3

Outside the royal chamber, one of the mushrooms at the door hissed softly to get the King’s attention. In the new fort the mushrooms had a direct line to the castle so they wouldn’t have to rely on Thang’s interpretation. There was a little speaker horn there for the last one to speak through. 

“Your Majesty,” it whispered. “Your Majesty?” The next few tries were completely ignored and the mushroom shifted uneasily. Stuff and Thang had made it pretty clear that they weren’t going anywhere near the door with Marianne inside. 

“Your Majesty,” it finally said, as loudly as the mumbling mushrooms could speak. 

“What,” came the surly growl and the mushroom continued bravely. 

“There was a disturbance along the forest border, Your Majesty,” the mushroom said. “But only one fairy is still on the way. The blonde one from before?”

Inside, the Bog King bristled at the thought of Roland following Marianne’s sweet pheromone trail. Even a love potion couldn’t keep that festering warble faithful for long. Maybe being force-fed his own wings would get it through his skull-

“The one that sang,” the mushroom went on. “A LOT.”

Oh. The Bog King considered. Dawn was much more bearable when she wasn’t under the influence of a love potion and Marianne would probably be much more willing to see her. 

“Your sister is coming,” he said aloud, just in case Marianne hadn’t been listening. She was a little too absorbed in the way his armor segments moved when he stretched and he was more than content to let her play. His voice did reach her and she nodded. 

“Ok,” she said. Then a little worriedly. “By herself?” The Bog King called over his shoulder to the speaking horn. 

“Send out an escort for the Princess,” he said. "And _only_ the Princess!" Clever little fingers traced along a seam under his arm to his shoulder blade and he forgot how to talk for a moment. “Inform us when she arrives,” he managed when he was able. The mushroom agreed and sent the message back out. Snuff and Brutus hurried to meet Dawn and the Bog King turned back to Marianne. 

“They’ll bring her here safely,” he murmured into her next kiss. “Do you want to see her?”

“I’ll tell her I’m all right,” Marianne said. She nibbled on his lip and pulled him back down to reach his ear. It made his teeth grind and his fingers dig into the bedding, but he resisted just grabbing her up and biting her neck and rutting her into the mattress. She had wanted to do this under the moon, badly enough that thinking about it had triggered the antennae and set off her pheromones. He wasn’t going to deny it to her just because she was tempting him beyond all reason.

He had slowed down and so had she and now they were both moving in languid circles. A kiss there, a caress there, lazy shifting against each other, all while the heat threatened to incinerate them both. The sun wasn’t down yet, he reminded himself. They had to let Dawn know that her sister was all right, get the girl home safe again, and then wait for the moon to rise. And then the armor could come off.

Her legs had finally gotten tired from being locked around his hips and she had let them drape over his thighs instead. He was rocking against her gently now. It ached too much not to, and just a little bit of friction kept them both from being so frantic for it. A series of bites from his jaw to his throat had him shaking, but they turned gentle again by the time they got back to his mouth. It was torture, but he had suffered before. If anyone was going to break, it wasn’t going to be him. He could do this for her. He could wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn was out of breath and still trying to talk to herself when the goblins found her. She managed a sort of squeal when she saw them, but Brutus looked so hurt that she forced it into a strained smile. 

“YeeeeeI mean, it’s you!” she gasped. “Hi! Um, phew, hang on.” She rested her hands on her knees. “Wow, she’s fast. Ok. Did, did my sister make it?” She gulped. “Ok?”

“The Lady Marianne is at the Dark Fortress,” Snuff said, as formally as he could. Then, he ruined it with a huge sneeze, spraying all three of them. Brutus glared. Dawn just looked horrified. 

“We’re your escort,” Snuff said, only a little sheepish. It was better than going on alone, maybe, so Dawn let them lead her through the winding Forest to the new Fortress. If anything it was even more foreboding than the last one, but it was hard to be intimidated having actually see what a softy the Bog King was over her sister. She tried to say so to Brutus but his tongue kept getting in her way. They took her inside and to a large, if a bit unassuming doorway.

“Princess Dawn has arrived,” the mushroom nearest the speaker horn whispered. There was a muffled sound from inside and then the lock clicked. Snuff took a deep breath, braced himself to dodge, and then cracked the door, being very careful not to peek in. The room inside was only lit by a scattering of luminescent fungus and a few glow worms in the ceiling. The brightest light was the thin line from the door. 

“Mari-“ Dawn began, trying to balance cheery with concern. She stuck her head in for a peek and then froze when the smell hit her. It was all sweetness and yearning and made her head swim a little. Then, she saw her sister. Marianne was smoldering. The Bog King was curled over and around her. His armor shifted and rolled with his heavy breathing. He ducked his head to look back at Dawn over his arm. She saw his pupils contract in the light, letting some blue appear. Combined with his position, it looked feral and predatory. He had used his staff to unlock the door, she realized, so he wouldn’t have to leave Marianne for even a moment.

Marianne lay under him, sprawled out loose-limbed and wanton and completely unlike any way Dawn had ever seen her. Her arms were around the Bog King, fingers digging into the ridges on his scalp and back. Her legs were twined around his. She was so flushed she seemed to be glowing and her eyes were molten. Her antennae were moving in a way that had to be indecent and Dawn blushed too. She had never seen anyone’s antennae out, much less her own sister’s. 

“I, uh,” she tried to say. “I got them all to go home. They didn’t stand a chance of catching you and they didn’t want to go into the Forest anyway, so I only had to smack a few of them. Heh. Um.” Neither of them spoke, and Dawn began to quietly panic. “Here!” she said in a rush, holding out a basket she had brought. “You, you dropped this in your, y’know _rush_ …” She was trying to tease, but the intensity radiating from the two made her want to scuttle somewhere better lit, and well, safer. She set the basket down, nudged it forward, and began to back away.

“I’m glad you’re ok!” she said. “You are ok, right? I’m just gonna go-“ She backed into Brutus, who was still damp from the sneeze. The Bog King’s eyes flitted from his stare down with her to his enforcer. 

“See she gets home before dark,” he said, and his voice was a husky growl. Brutus grunted, his big hands settling on Dawn’s shoulders. The staff pushed the door shut and she heard the lock knocked back into place. She blinked at the door for a moment and let her head clear a little. 

“Wow,” she said. Brutus harumphed in agreement and then gestured for her to follow. She was glad to. 

Inside the room, the Bog King hooked the basket with the staff and tilted it so it slid down to his hand. He set it on the bed next to Marianne and she sighed as she tried to decide which hand to pull away from him to reach for it. She finally dragged the one on his back down his arm so it wouldn’t have to go far. 

“What is it?” he asked, rubbing his forehead on her temple when she turned her head. 

“For you,” she said, shrugging with just a ghost of her old nonchalance. “For us. For tonight.” She pulled it over and he raised enough to open the basket with more reverence than fairy shopping probably deserved. The thought of her looking for what to bring him, thinking of what she would want or need for their first time made him shake. If he had had hidden antennae they would’ve burst out long before this. As it was, he needed a distraction. He had wanted to mark and claim Marianne in front of the intruder, even if it had only been Dawn. 

Marianne would understand. She would probably want it too, but they had likely scandalized Dawn enough. His smirk faded. He didn’t want Marianne to be a scandal to anyone. He didn’t want anyone whispering behind her back about what that monster from the Dark Forest had done to her, about what she had gone willingly to. He snarled to himself. Willingly was the thing. She had come to him willingly, and had to flee from her own people. She wouldn’t have had to run if they hadn’t been the monsters. 

She stroked over him, purring at the texture change from his sharp jaw over his chest and down to his hips. The sound and the touch dragged all his anger into threads and dissolved them. Their face structures were nothing alike, but their kisses fit together perfectly. The warmth and taste of her drove out even the memory of anyone else and what they might think. 

When he finally got back to it, the basket had a little green bottle all stoppered up, something that smelled vaguely edible wrapped up in a maple leaf, something soft and folded that felt like petals, and a flower bud a little smaller than one of Marianne’s fists, closed up tight. She scooped it out of his hand and cradled it against her chest. 

“It gave me the idea,” she said. “It only opens under direct moonlight and…” She let her voice trail off to nuzzle his nose and kiss him a few times. He could barely stand it and caught her lips in his teeth. He had to will himself not to bite down and hurt her, but she only smirked into it. “It made me think how much I wanted to do that too.”

Her meaning arced over him like lightning. He couldn’t speak or breathe and he felt like his armor would split and steam like a boiled crawdad shell. He had to bury his face in her shoulder, his fingers in his bedding, and just _inhale_ until there was enough air in him to force his lungs open. She might have been chuckling a little, and he couldn’t even care. He wrapped his hand around hers, careful not to squeeze and damage the bud. 

It would open when the moon rose. He let himself imagine her opening for him. He wanted nothing more than to be hers. They only had to wait until then. There was still the chance that some unworthy interloper would make a try for Marianne if they went out now. As much as he wanted to seize her up and carry her to the highest tower and lose himself in her, it might not be safe yet, might not be what she wanted. 

“I want you,” she reminded him, reading his mind, or maybe he had said some of that out loud. Her antenna couldn’t decide if they wanted his throat or lips more and he didn’t know how long he could keep his teeth to himself. He stroked his thumb over the bud’s petals as if it would make them open faster and it was her turn to shiver.


	5. Chapter 5

It was Griselda who met Dawn on the way out and told her to assure her father that everything would be fine. 

“We’ll look after her like she is our own,” the little bog queen mother said, patting her hand. “After all, she is going to be.”

“Uh,” Dawn was just glad Griselda’s skin was dryer than it looked. “Yeah.” She giggled a little then began to realize exactly what that meant. Marianne was going to be Queen. Not just of the Light Fields, but the Dark Forest. “Wow,” she said again as it sank in. She was quiet until Brutus picked her up and put her on his shoulder. Then, she squeaked a little. 

“Snuff is allergic to that powder that comes off your wings,” Griselda said. “But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying so.”

“Oh,” Dawn said. “Well, that’s… considerate?” 

“He’s a good boy,” Griselda agreed. “You take care, dear.” Brutus started off at a trot and Dawn had to hang on to keep from being bounced. The sun was setting behind the trees, she noticed, but a goblin in his own territory could move quickly. Brutus slid through the marshy undergrowth, barely stirring a leaf on either side. She really was going to make it home before dark, Dawn thought, brightening. She looked over her shoulder at where the sky still red and gold in the west and back towards home where twilight was creeping in. 

The evening sky was almost the color of Marianne’s wings, Dawn thought. I’m the morning, and she’s the night. The moon was rising as the sun was setting. She could see the edge of it over the next hill. Things were going to change, and as worrisome as that was, she couldn’t help but grin. 

Once she was out of sight, Griselda turned back to the other goblins. She saw the moon rising too, and had better hearing than anyone in the bog realized. She knew her son wasn’t one to risk any threat to Marianne and that his first impulse would be to hide her away somewhere safe and sound and all his. She had also predicted weeks ago that a surly, bashful king with a winged paramour would need a skylight big enough to come and go through in his new chambers. She sent two of the burlier goblins to go open it. Her son would be happier inside his own walls. She would bring the moonlight to him. 

The first sound of the platform being dragged away sent the Bog King snarling up at it. He had been tying Marianne into knots with his knuckles and tongue when the scraping noise came from over their heads. He had half-risen and whipped around to glare up at it, wings buzzing and armor flared in full defensive mode. He hadn’t known they had put a large round window in his ceiling and the slowly waxing evening light that poured in wasn’t welcome until he slowly realized no threat was there. 

He huffed through his teeth, eyes quick for anything wrong, but the moment stretched out and nothing happened.The moon wasn’t dead center over the window yet, but pale light fell down onto the bed. Marianne opened her eyes and beamed back at it, spreading out her arms like she could soak it in. 

“It turns you silver,” she sighed, running hands up as much of his legs as she could reach without getting up. “I knew it would.” He started to sink back down with her, still tense for an attack that wasn’t coming. “Just like I imagined,” she went on, wrapping her arms around more of him as he lay back down. He couldn’t help but snort a little. 

“You can’t ask me to believe that your girlish heart dreamed of someone like me,” he said. He wasn’t sincerely scornful of that, and not as upset as he would’ve been not long ago, but she just gave him a ‘now really’ look and kissed her way up his spine. He couldn’t resist that anymore than he could stop the tide, and ended up a shuddering puddle in her arms again. She stroked over his throat, sliding fingers under the collar as far as the armor would let her.

“How much of this comes off?” she asked, leaning over him. The steadily moving moon rose behind her head like a halo. It cast her face in shadow, made her eyes glow in a way that made his whole being throb for her. He looked at her in smitten silence for a beat too long.

“How much do you want to see?” he asked, growl softening into whisper. Armor was usually a good idea in the Dark Forest, but he was too far gone to be wary anymore. Some Foresters ate their mates, but fairies probably didn’t. A little armor would prevent some stray bites if she lost control, but his own primal instincts was willing to lose some chunks if it meant a well-fed and sated mate. Unless fairy young ate their way out of their mothers. Why wasn’t there a fairy queen? he wondered suddenly. 

“Do you and Dawn have the same mother?” he asked. She was busy feeling under his shell for what was actually a part of him and what could come off.

“Of course,” she said and he relaxed again. He didn’t need to ask what had happened to her. If she had survived to a second child then it probably wasn’t fatal for fairies. He kissed the insides of her arms and she splayed her fingers out. He was still rough and hard underneath, just warmer and much more responsive. The moon was now completely inside the circle of the window, and she could feel the moment where he dropped his guard and the tension bled out of him. His eyes closed and he just gave himself up into her arms.

Even in the state she was in, Marianne knew what that cost him and squeezed him close with a throaty hum. She slid out from under him to swing over and straddle his torso. He didn’t even open his eyes, but his hands slid up to her thighs. She pulled them up to kiss the fingertips and knuckles. He had been so careful not to nick her with his nails or teeth and she didn’t quite have the words yet to tell him that she might not mind that. 

She took the moonflower and saw how the tight bud was softening and loosening. It sent a little tremble up her own spine and she cupped his hands to put the flower in them. He opened his eyes then to see it come a little more open in his fingers. Marianne smiled at him over it and began to pull off her tunic. Fairy clothes tended to look more complex than they actually were. There were lots of layers, but they all fell open as easily as daisy petals when they were unfastened. 

If the moon had turned him silver, it made her glow. She let the petal clothes fall away and her wings fan out behind her. The light shone through them like stained glass and he just drank in the sight. He wasn’t sure how anything that looked so fragile could be so strong and fearless. She looked like she was made of thistledown and gossamer and dew drops. He was torn between letting her have all the moonlight in the world and blocking it so no one else could see her like this.

“Help me,” she said so softly that he wasn’t even sure he had heard it until she rose up a little to ease her leggings down. He blinked a few times before setting the flower down on his chest and reaching to help peel them off. He wasn’t sure how to go about this without tearing it, but wasn’t able to refuse her anything at that point. 

She sank back when there was nothing left and he wasn’t aware of how hard he was shaking until she started to sincerely try to unbuckle some of his armor and he got in her way trying to do it first.


	6. Chapter 6

Moonlight sizzled over Marianne’s skin. She felt like it had poured into her and filled her up and now it was beaming out of her. She could feel it shining in her veins, flowing between her toes and through her wings. It sparked between her antenna and through them, she could feel everything. She was aware of all the little spores that were released from the moonflower. If they could find a place to land, the Bog King’s chamber might be sprouting them by the next full moon. It gave her a thrill to imagine watching them open every moonrise and remembering this. She was sure it wouldn’t just be him watching them, because she probably wasn’t going to ever want to sleep anywhere else again. 

She could also feel every breath from him. Every huff and pant sent ripples out and each one washed over her, raising goosebumps and sending electricity into deeper places. He was shaking, letting armored pieces come loose and fall away. She knew that he was exposing parts of himself that had never been seen and that it was every bit as excruciating as if he was pulling off a real exoskeleton. He was laying himself bare, making himself open and vulnerable, and he was doing it all for her. 

Goblins didn’t give off pheromones as fairies understood it, but he was definitely radiating something. Her antennae registered it as heat and were drawn to it. They were as hungry for him as her hands and mouth were. He hissed and groaned as she kept all three busy over every new inch that he uncovered. The moonlight played all along his rough edges, making patterns like frost on blackberry vines. 

He had finally stripped down as much as he was able, and he looked up at her. His wings weren’t buzzing the way they usually did when he was worked up, but they were quivering, making ripples in the air that teased her antennae and matched up with the movement of her own. Her pheromones settled on his newly exposed skin. Maybe he could absorb them that way. He wasn’t soft or slick or even shiny like the other goblins, but there were places where he was smooth. She was touching all of him to find them. She hadn’t left him a moment of time to catch his breath and he was far beyond the reach of any of his usual doubts.

The moonlight had filled them both up and left nothing but each other. They couldn’t be afraid or self-conscious. There just wasn’t any room for it. His hands were huge compared to hers and the sharp nails on them finally dug in when he grabbed her hips. Even that little flash of pain was welcome. She rocked into it, opening in his cupped hands like the flower had. He had only touched her through her clothes before, careful not to hurt or embarrass her, but now there was nothing to hold him back. This was hers, this was his, and it couldn’t be taken from them.

They weren’t speaking anymore. All their quick, breathless sounds dropped to growls. It might have been tender for the first moment, but he buried his face in her, sharp nose and soft tongue at odds, making her yowl. As intense as that was, she still couldn’t feel enough of him.The dreamy haze of earlier vanished. She dug her fingers into his head to pull him up into a kiss that quickly turned into biting. 

Their teeth clacked together. The Bog King almost had fangs and she wanted to feel the sting of them on her tongue and her lips, down her neck, on the insides of her legs. Those nails dug into her back again and she arched into it, moaning around his tongue. She clawed at him too. Even though her nails weren’t sharp enough to hurt him, the scrape of them over skin that didn’t even remember the last time it had been touched had him twisting and snarling. 

They couldn’t think anymore. There was too much pressing from the inside out. Marianne’s antennae were bringing in too much information for her to process it all. She was overwhelmed and grasping for everything. A hand closed around the back of her neck and she couldn’t remember where she was. The other one slid down her spine to tuck in between her thighs and she wasn’t sure of her own name. Then, one of her antennae was sucked into his mouth and he let his teeth scrape over as it was released and the slow-burning fuse finally reached the end.

She exploded all over him, grabbing and biting. Marianne slammed his shoulders back against the headboard to see all of him. She wanted everything, wanted to see and touch and own. For that moment, forearm to his neck and her head against his chest, he let her look and feel him over.

There was nothing there a well-brought up fairy would’ve ever expected, but she didn’t care. Weeks ago, she had refused to even imagine it when she had overheard fairy guards speculating crudely about goblin barbs and ovipositors, and even if she had, it was the farthest thing from her mind now. At first, she only looked and then it was so easy to touch and explore and find the places smoother than she had thought any part of him could be. She didn’t look up until his claws sank into her shoulders and she saw the affect she was having on him. 

He was twisting and grinding his teeth to hold back when all the rest of him was straining for her. As tightly cinched as his control had been, once the first strand unraveled, the rest wouldn’t stand a chance. That was what she wanted. She wrapped her arms around him to rake her nails straight down between his wings and bit down on his ear. Whatever threads were left to hold him snapped. He pounced and pinned her flat, snarling out hungry sounds. Her cry was only relief. 

She wanted everything. The curve of his body arching over her, she arched up to meet, the rasp of his hands against her wrists she didn’t even try to fight, and the nudge of his hips she spread wide for. His teeth sank into her neck as he sank into her and her antennae whited out. He began to move in a desperate burning rhythm and every move sent a surge entirely through her. It slammed through every nerve ending all the way to the tips of her antennae. The sensation in them felt like it had to be glowing in bright pulses up the stalks, making the tips throb and swell. 

He was still curling over her, trying to protect her even now, maybe from just himself. She wanted to speak to him, to tell him he was beautiful, how good he felt, how perfect he _tasted_ , and she tried. She couldn’t hear her own voice over the ecstasy pounding through her. Her wings fanned out on either side, brushing up over both of them. They were the only gentleness in this. Even the moonlight felt electric. Marianne curled tight around him again. She had to have more, to be closer, to feel deeper. She clutched him so tightly he wasn’t able to pull back for the next thrust, and they rocked together for a short breathless eternity before the antennae fizzled and sparked straight into her brain. 

There was a strange, hushed moment where time stopped and she could finally hear her name in an awestruck whisper. It twisted her heart up tight and lit up the rest of her white hot and perfect. All she could feel was him, and when her eyes opened, all she could see was the moon.


	7. Chapter 7

Marianne slowly became aware of breathing again. She could feel him breathing against her throat and shoulder. She lost count of how many breaths it took until she could begin to pick out light and dark shapes again. It felt like her eyes had soaked up too much moonlight to see without a silver haze. Or maybe all the fireworks going on behind them had burned them out. The room was a blur of suffused light and dark melted together and she was content to stay there.

An uncounted number of breaths later, she felt him moving. She heard the low moan and then a much gentler kiss on the stinging place on her neck. Was he trying to sooth the bite with kisses? She smiled because she loved the ache. She felt the drag of his spikes and angles against her cheek and felt him whisper something that she couldn’t hear. 

She let her eyes try to focus on him and found him beautifully backlit. Pale, pre-morning light highlighted his edges and made the rest seem velvety in the shadows. He was carefully holding her, lifting and rolling her. They were still locked together, and she could feel the shift inside when he very gingerly rolled over on his back with her. She hummed a little at the change of position, but let him settle her back down on his torso. She felt sated and heavy and filled. She was too blissed out to mind anything. Too pleased to purr, as the expression went. 

Every touch was wonderful. He draped her wings on either side so they could stretch a little, and maybe for the chance to touch them a little. He held her tightly so she wouldn’t be jostled when he squirmed slightly to lay back out. She felt him shift inside her and moan somewhere over her head as his back arched a fraction. The only sound from her was a faint rumble.

She felt him stroking her hair. His sharp fingertips scraped just enough to be delicious. There was a slight tingle when the passed over the nubs and an answering pleasure from deeper in her skull. Somewhere in her mind, she understood that her antennae had either retracted or had simply disintegrated from the force of the sensation that had been sent through them. Maybe they would have to regenerate before they unfolded again. 

She was slowly and gradually waking up. Each movement and sound plucked at her. She mmmed into the headrub and felt his breath shudder. 

“You’re bleeding,” he whispered. “Love, say something. Did I- Was it-?” 

“Something,” she said muzzily. He was very still for a moment and then he huffed. It was too relieved and breathless to be a real laugh. His hand stroked over the scratches on her back. They barely hurt but she leaned into the caress like cat, making him shift underneath and inside of her. 

“I can’t-“ he began again. How did he even have energy to talk? “Can’t let you go like this. We’ll have to wait.”

“Good,” she said, letting her eyes close. 

“Good?” he echoed, still uncertain. She gave him another “mmm” and made a little undulation of her own. She felt him throb and heard him hiss. He was still giving off the warmth she had felt before and wondered if he could still smell her pheromones. Everything felt warm and sweet and she only heard a few more breaths before she was asleep. 

A new heat woke her up. The sun was beaming down on her outstretched wings. It lay like a warm blanket over her whole back. Bog lay beneath her, also dozing even though his hands were still in place to hold her. He looked soft and almost sweet in the light, but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the sunlight. She spread her wings to shade him and lay her cheek back against his heartbeat to slip under for a little while longer too. 

He woke up before she was aware of it. The involuntary flutter of her wings as she fanned them woke him and he lay there to watch the sun through them until the change in his breathing got her attention again. When her eyes opened, she could see clearly again. His sharp face wavered until she blinked and then there he was. She smiled at him and he gathered her up in his arms to carefully lift her up and ease out of her. 

She whined to be without him, felt a different ache and throb to lose that contact. His sound was more like a whimper, but he bit his own lip and moved to lay her down beside him. She stretched a little, already missing the way their bodies interlocked. He hovered over her scratches and bites and she felt a little smug to be so marked. No one who saw them would have any doubt who she had chosen. 

“I hurt you,” he said, and there was nothing smug in that at all. 

“Perfect,” she said. “The only word for it is perfect. I was a little afraid you wouldn’t.” She let him think on that and sprawled in the sun while she waited. Her wings were glowing and her eyes were happy and she was clearly marked as his in ways no idiot could miss. That was enough to settle him a little. He kissed her and she felt how tender her lips were too. It was wonderful and she smiled into it. He stroked over her, smooth skin and marked together. 

“H-here,” he said, pulling her basket in reach. He opened the bottle with a pop and sniffed the contents. It smelled like melted frost, and seemed chillier than it should be. He held it to her lips and she took a sip that went cold all the way down. It helped wake her up a little more. She moistened her lips with it and took another drink. He watched her throat bob with the swallow and how bright and dark the bite mark was. 

Everyone would know who she belonged with when they saw it. All those flitting nuisances who had thought they might have a chance when they caught whiff of her sweetness would know how very laughable their attempts had been. Satisfaction burned deep in his gut and made him rumble. She smirked, knowing what he was looking at. She tilted her head to give him a better view and traced her fingers over it. 

“Does it hurt?” he couldn’t help but ask. He could feel his own bites, but her little nibblers were barely sharp enough to break his skin. She pressed her fingers in hard enough to make her eyes flutter. The “mmm” sound this time was throaty and even though she didn’t say it was perfect again, he knew she was thinking it. It sent a new gush of emotion through his chest and all the things he wanted to say got stuck in his throat. 

“Are, are you hungry?” he finally managed to say. He pulled the maple leaf bundle out of the basket and fumbled with the tie on it. “I don’t know what these are, but-“

“They’re for you,” she said. “Not really sweet, but good.” She raised up on an elbow to kiss him and snagged one of the treats with her free hand. He blinked at her and the small cluster of treats. She bit into hers with those dainty little teeth he had just been thinking about.

"They’re made of acorns,” she said. “I know you have oaks in the Dark Forest, so you might like something made of acorn.”

“Of course,” he said. He crunched it away in two bites. It was still sweeter and brighter than he was used to food being, but it wasn’t bad, and the thought of her looking for something for him pleased him as much as always. There was only one thing left in the basket so he pulled it out and gave it a shake. He had thought it was made of petals, but it unfolded into a length of spidersilk. It was silvery sheer and had designs like constellations spun into it. Dark Forest spiders were more practical. They had never made anything like this that he had seen. 

“That’s for you, too,” she said, grinning and shrugging like maybe it hadn’t been the best idea. He only snorted a little, then reconsidered. He spread it out over her naked body and she smirked. It was an even better present on her. He could still see the marks he had left on her through the silk, but even in the sunlight, she now had the gleam of the moon over her. The moonflower bud had closed up again, but would open again tonight, he reminded himself. There were so many words to describe it, but the one he kept coming back to was the one she had already used. Perfect.


	8. Chapter 8

As nosy as she was, Griselda was still hearing more than she was comfortable with. She was happy for them, really. It was just that it took the rest of the full moon for the lovebugs to come up for air, which meant three solid days and two nights of it. They staggered out for more substantial food than acorn cookies and the occasional bath, but always disappeared back into the rooms again. Most of the goblins went about their business a little sheepishly and at least didn’t seem to hear all the commotion. 

Griselda started to do errands outside the fortress so she wouldn’t have to hear it all quite so clearly. Antennae or no antennae, the fairy girl knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy about asking for it. So after the first day, Griselda decided she would stay outside for awhile. Hopefully they would wear themselves out and have come to their senses by the time the moon started to wane. Being outside did give the queen mother an idea, though, and she started collecting the blue poppies that grew near where the old castle had been. 

Finally, a little sliver started to fade out of the moon, and the royal couple emerged. And they were the royal couple now, that was clear to everyone. It was the first time in ages any of them could remember seeing the Bog King out without full armor. He had left the spaulders and pauldrons and vambraces behind. That may have been because Marianne was on his arm and the less between them the better. They both had visible bite and scratch marks that made even oblivious Thang blush. 

More than that, there was an ease to both of them. That could’ve been blamed on just the relief of getting every bit of tension they might have ever had out on each other, but it felt like more than that. They way they moved and the way they looked at each other spoke more of two people who hadn’t just finally found their place in the world, but the person they were supposed to be there with. It was an entirely different kind of relief, and hope lit in Griselda’s heart. 

It had been a long time since the Bog King had been so formal, too. It flustered his subjects who were used to being snarled at and chased, but they scrambled to assemble anyway when he called the goblins together. Griselda was waved to a spot on the other side of Marianne who gave her a smile that was only a little dazed. Griselda was surprised she was going along with this. Marianne had never been the type for formality either, preferring to wade in with swords and bared teeth to courtly speech. If she wasn’t wincing at this, she knew what was happening and had a hand in it, and speaking of hands…

Griselda rose up on her toes to peek at Marianne’s left hand, but her fingers were curled over Bog’s forearm. She was so intent on looking that it took her a moment to pay attention to Bog’s announcement. She missed the first part but snapped back into focus when she heard the word ‘queen’. 

“-as soon as arrangements can be made with the Fairy Kingdom,” he was saying. The goblins were gasping. Some had tears in their eyes. Griselda gaped. _Had he-? Was it possible? Could it possibly be??_ Then, Bog was presenting Marianne to the court, and Marianne was tilting her head regally, and they held up their clasped hands together, and there on the next to last finger was a polished ring of amber just like the piece in his staff.

The goblins went wild, roaring and clapping. Bog was still playing the regal monarch, but he couldn’t keep the glint out of his eye when he looked at Marianne, who was grinning a little too sunnily to be perfectly poised. He leaned in to kiss her in front of all of them and Marianne melted into it as if no one in the world was watching. Griselda was frozen for a whole second before she burst into tears of joy too, and ran to hug them both and maybe shake her son for making her wait so long, and warn Marianne who already knew what she was getting into. 

When she finally got her arms around them though, all she could do was cry.


	9. Chapter 9

The Fairy King had worked himself into a frothy lather worrying about Marianne. He was terrified for her and sick with himself. If poor Marianne had been looking for help, what must she have thought to see her father in the grip of the same force she was trying to escape? He had no excuse. It had been years since he had gotten a whiff of fully awakened pheromones, but he was still deeply ashamed that his first impulse had been to order the others back because he was King and entitled, not to protect his daughter. He hadn’t even known it was her for the first moment. 

This kind of thing didn’t happen often. Fairies did tend to be giddy in the spring, and when they fell in love, they fell hard, but spontaneous manifestation of antennae were few and far between. It was mentioned during The Talk, but no one really expected it to happen to them. He had never had it happen. He had loved his wife more than anything and neither of them had ever sprouted feelers at each other. 

Why Marianne? Why then? If either of his daughters were to ever do that, he wouldn’t expected it to be Dawn, as hormonal as she was. What had happened to poor Marianne to bring that about? What had she been exposed to that would force that reaction out of her? And she had torn off to the Dark Forest like lightning. Had the goblins done something to her? Was it a different kind of love potion? What has happening to her right now? 

He had considered taking an armed guard in to fetch her home, but he wasn’t sure she wanted to see him. She had looked so shocked and betrayed when she had seen how her pheromones affected him. If she was still in the same state, would it be safe to be near her? He didn’t want to end up dueling with his own guard for the horrified hand of his own traumatized daughter. She had had the whole world to flee into. She could’ve locked herself in her room. She could’ve gone to the elf village. She had chosen the Dark Forest. 

Marianne had insisted before that the Bog King loved her and was trustworthy. She also insisted that she loved him. She had reminded her aghast father that he was the one who thought she would be stronger with a king by her side. Well, hadn’t she found one? He had wanted to scream at the time. It was a miracle he hadn’t pulled his whole beard out. 

Now he just paced, and tried to ignore the whispering around him. It was Dawn who had taken control of the situation. She had been livid the first time some fairies wondered a little too loudly about the mental state of the elder princess and if she would be fit to rule when and if she staggered back from the Dark Forest. As tiny and perky as Dawn was, she could turn ferocious in a heartbeat and she had told the gossipers off in no uncertain terms. 

“You!” she had shrilled, taking to the air in outrage. Her voice had been sharp enough to cut through the Fairy King’s misery. “You… dirty… _hypocrites!_ You were drooling as hard as every one else. If you had even a chance with her you would’ve bragged about it ’til the day you died, and believe you me, as soon as the Bog King found out that you had taken advantage of her that way, that day would’ve already arrived!”

Even the King had flinched at that, but no one noticed. 

“She didn’t want you!” Dawn raged on. “She didn’t want _any_ of you. Not even out of her mind with pheromones! You _still_ weren’t good enough for my sister and you! Never! Will be!” Every word had gotten louder and she gotten closer so that the last four were roared into the smirkiest whisperer’s face. The smirks were gone and fairies were slinking away as politely as possible. By the time Dawn spun around, only her father was still there to confront. She glared at him long enough for him to brace himself and then melted into distress. 

“WHY are you letting them talk that way?” she wailed. “Do you actually believe it too??”

“No!” he gasped. “Of course not! I’m just- I- It’s complicated…!”

Dawn’s eyebrows crashed down again. Her father was hit by the sudden feeling that he had just failed both his children. 

“It is NOT,” she snapped. He was saved from whatever wrath was to come by one of the tower guards bursting in to tell them that there was an entourage from the Dark Forest on the road to the castle. Dawn beamed with relief and zipped off for her own look. She was back before her father could even sag back on his throne. 

“It has to be them,” she said. “We have to get ready!” She took over again, sending staff scuttling to clean and redecorate for a royal visit. Even if most of the fairies were doing things like hiding the good silver and opening windows for easy escape, they still had things looking festive by the time the entourage reached the gate.

Two large goblins came in first. One Dawn recognized as Brutus and gave him a little wave, but the other one was a toothy castle guard that she hadn’t been introduced to yet. They strolled in, huge arms swinging, clearing the way and then standing at either side for Bog and Marianne. The Bog King was back in full armor, but there was something soft and shimmery tucked around his collar. Marianne was wearing a gown of blue night flowers. Griselda had spent the last three days making it for her. It draped high over her thighs in the front and trailed behind her like an evening mist. She had the amber ring and the claiming marks on her throat clearly visible. 

If the Fairy King had held on to any hopes that Bog had done the gentlemanly thing and refused to touch Marianne in her fevered state, the bite and scratchmarks on her shattered them. The other fairies didn’t miss it either, but fell silent in the face of Marianne’s obvious smugness. She winked at Dawn as she passed and Dawn clasped her hands in glee, but held it together since this was clearly a Serious Royal Procession. 

Marianne curtseyed like a good princess and Bog was just barely polite enough for a visiting king in another king’s castle. The presentation went pretty much like the last one had, only this time it was Marianne addressing her father’s court, declaring her acceptance of the Bog King’s proposal and her as-soon-as-arrangements-can-be-made wedding. 

Bog was doing his best to look cold and regal while being on high alert for anyone who tried to protest or intervene. He didn’t miss the way the Fairy King physically shrank into his throne at the news and kept himself from sneering by force of will. _She’s not yours to protect anymore,_ he couldn’t help but think at the gentler king and hoped the sentiment got through his eyes. _She’s mine. Mine alone. Nothing you can do can change that. If she decides she wants the crown off your head and the throne out from under you, I will break you to give them to her._

There was a blur of pink and a high-pitched noise and Dawn was tackling Marianne in a hug. Bog pulled his staff out of the way and braced himself so he wouldn’t be bowled over when his turn came. Sure enough, an ecstatic Dawn hit him mid-torso a moment later. The goblins in their entourage were clapping and that got a few of the fairies to join in. 

The Fairy King still hadn’t said anything, but Marianne didn’t seem to mind. She hadn’t been asking permission after all. As long as she wasn’t upset, Bog didn’t mind what the other king did. 

“He’s been worried sick,” Dawn whispered to them both. “And now he knows he didn’t have to be and it’s taking a moment to sink in.” Out loud, she called for congratulations and a feast to be prepared and all manner of things that got the rest of the court at least speaking and moving around. Bog and Marianne were both approached and congratulated and in the commotion, Marianne stole a moment to speak to her father. 

“Have I finally disappointed you beyond saving?” she asked, mostly kidding. She knew he would personally take the news hard, but making it formal and official would ease the news out to the rest of the kingdom. 

“Never,” he gasped and clutched her hands. He didn’t want to kiss them with Bog’s eyes so sharp and threatening on him, but he managed a watery smile for Marianne. “Are you all right?”

“Never better,” she said, as frustratingly brazen as ever. She looked it. Her eyes were bright and she looked free and happy. The weight was off her, he realized. She wouldn’t have to carry anything alone anymore. That’s what he had wanted for her, he knew. More proof to be careful what you wish for.

“You’re sure this is what you want,” he asked in a whisper. “If there’s any way to get you out of this, I’ll do it, just say the word-“

“All I want,” she said, smiling the way he remembered from long ago, before Roland, before any worries. “Is for you to be happy for me.”

“How can I?” he finally let his despair leak out. “When I’m letting you go into such darkness?” She blinked a bit, maybe in surprise.

“ _Letting?_ ” she echoed, then grinned again and held up the ring. In the bright hall, the amber flashed and glowed. 

“He’s given me sunshine of my own,” she said, and while he looked at the ring, she looked at Bog.


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn wriggled back into Marianne’s arms and hugged her. A feast couldn’t be properly prepared, she explained, until the next day, and there were invitations, and all the kingdown should be there and wasn’t there more of the Dark Foresters to attend? And- Marianne finally held up her hands, laughing.

“Take all the time you want,” she said. “I’m really only here to give the news and pack.”

“What?” Dawn looked stricken for a whole instant. “Wah! You’re moving in with him already? What am I going to do here all by myself?”

“Come visit?” Marianne grinned at her. “You found it fine the other day.”

“Oh yeah, and that was a great visit,” Dawn snorted, but grinned too. “I’m only scarred for life, thanks so much. Look, at least stay for dinner. I’ll help you gather up an overnight bag and we can at least plan for the big to-do. Ok?”

“Honestly?” Marianne said. “I figure the big to-do is going to be it. I mean, I’d marry him tonight and have it over with if I had my way.”

“What? No flowers, no music? Whaat??” Dawn was towing Marianne towards her room even while she complained. Marianne shrugged over her shoulder at Bog, who smiled a little and then flexed his shoulders to stand slightly straighter. He didn’t especially want her out of his sight, but he could see her father approaching and didn’t want the old botfly to follow her either. Not to her room. Not to any place he could touch her. 

He turned cold eyes on the old king, who had the good sense to look uneasy. It was hard to imagine the gentleman fairy getting hot and bothered over anyone, much less his own children, and this was not the place to lose his temper. The old king was clearly jealous of his daughters, and didn’t want to lose Marianne (and who would) but, if Bog remembered right, he could barely fly. He wasn’t really a threat to Marianne except that it would hurt her to have to fight him. And she wasn’t going to be hurt if Bog could do anything about it.

“She’s leaving?” the Fairy King asked. His distress should’ve been funny. “But she’s the heir to the throne!”

“Would you rather we moved in?” Bog asked, his own grin tight and insincere. He was easily the tallest being in the room and looming. Behind him, the goblins attempted to schmooze. Brutus, Dark bless him, was doing his best to engage in small talk with a clearly uncomfortable fairy in armor. “I’m kidding,” Bog added as he saw the panic building in the Fairy King’s eyes. 

“It’s all so sudden,” The Fairy King said, and Bog let that go. He was not here to win over the old man and at the moment, the other king was less a future father-in-law and more something to be crushed if it got in his way. Besides that, Bog had to keep an eye on his own folk to make sure none of them were insulted or made fun of. All bets were off then. He made the rounds. He was out of practice being social, but if Brutus could do it, so could he. He tended to overhear more than was actually said to him and there was some interesting speculation about him personally (very personally) being whispered around the corners of the room. 

Good, he growled to himself, falling back on anger to keep from being embarrassed. Let them wonder and be afraid. The Fairy King pulled himself together and started to interact when the staff that Dawn had put on alert started to ask questions about the celebratory feast. As soon as he was out of earshot, the hissed conversations turned to Marianne and the carefully maintained chill in Bog’s blood started to ignite. 

Why the teeth marks? one wondered snidely. What kind of chemical did goblins have in their mouths that would make that something a fairy would tolerate? Maybe it could be harvested and used for something else. Maybe it just took a special personality to enjoy something like that. Maybe you had to have something wrong with you from the beginning. Maybe-

“Maybe,” Bog snarled, loudly enough for everyone around him to hear. “Fairy bones break like pine needles if you know how.” His head tilted with a muffled crack so he could glare first at the whisperers, then at the Fairy King. The threat was plain and it was a tense, ugly moment where Bog had to remind himself that smashing in empty heads would serve nothing. The royal guard was no match for him, as he had proven that night at the elf dance. The fairies around him were creeping carefully back, and the goblins had gone battle ready around the room before an incandescent Dawn flew into him, jostling him and making him scowl that much harder.

“Marianne wants you upstairs,” she chirped at him and then whispered into his ear. “I’ll take over down here. Brutus!” she called much louder. “I love your vest! Did you make it? Oh, and Daddy! I talked Marianne into staying the night, so the feast is on for tomorrow!”

Already on his way to the stairs, Bog jerked a little at that. He wanted this over with and Marianne safely back to his own territory. The goblins adored and feared her, as they should. None of them would ever mutter crude things about her around the corners of a party. He caught the eye of Fang across the room and raised an eyebrow. Fang nodded minutely and the bog goblin began to carefully move to a position where he could guard the door and clear a path if they needed to run. 

Bog made his way up the stairs. He could smell roses and more than that, he could smell Marianne. He gave the door a light tap and opened it. It was a strangely bare room with some scattered petals and a rose large enough to sleep on in the middle. Was it a bed? Seemed impractical. How often did they have to replace it? What did they do in the winter? 

Then Marianne pounced on him from overhead and flattened him with a kiss before he could even think about going on the defensive. He rumbled into it, wrapping arms tightly around her. He could feel her heart pounding like a hummingbird. 

“I don’t want you here,” he grumbled. “Want you home. Safe.”

“I _do_ want you here,” she purred back. She waved an arm at the room. “This used to be the place I felt the safest. See that bed? I used to lay there and dream about my someone someday.” 

“Oh,” Bog grunted. He didn’t want to think of her sprawled out and imagining Roland or someone else handsome and stupid.

“So,” she said, tilting his chin so he couldn’t do his sulky look-away. “If this is going to be my last night in that bed, I want my someone in it with me.”

“What?”

“The very first thing I said,” she said, running hands down his sides to his hips. She leaned closer to whisper it more fiercely. “ _I want you here._ ”

“Oh,” he said again, only this time awestruck. She kissed him, teasing all the tension out of him with her tongue. 

“I want you,” she went on when they came up for air. “My real true love, in my childhood bed, burning all my silly dreams into very real ashes.” She tilted her head to show the bruising and teeth marks, just a few shades off from the color of her dress. It sent a possessive thrill all the way through him. It was hard to breathe around the need to bite her again.

“Anyone with eyes can see who I belong to,” she told him. “It’s the ones with ears I want to convince.” Her eyes were blazing and her grin was wicked. This girl was wasted in the Light Kingdom. He growled and she bit his lip and they both collapsed on the rose bed.


	11. Chapter 11

The rose was all softness and sweetness, but it was nothing compared to her. She was clinging as closely as she had when she first reached him a few days ago, like she was afraid something would keep her from him. Her expression didn’t have any fear in it, though. If it had, nothing would’ve kept him from vowing to burn this place down around their pointed ears. He snarled into her throat. She was his. Only his. 

“I’m not what I used to be,” she hissed, clawing at his armor. She knew how it overlapped now and could get where she wanted without taking the whole suit off. “And I’ve never been what they WANT me to be.” He drowned that out with his mouth. He didn’t want her to be quiet, he just wanted her to stop thinking about what anyone else in the world thought of her. They struggled with each other’s clothes until the way was clear and they could just sink into each other. 

She made one of the relieved sounds he had come to recognize and he growled, wanting her to be loud enough for everyone to hear. For her father to understand exactly who ruled what. For all the smirking flitterers to know what they would never have. For his own people to be assured that all was right in the world. He wanted to shatter every childhood imagining she could still remember. It set his teeth on edge and his body moving. It should’ve been a violent, taking thing, but she flowed into, all warmth and welcome. She was enjoying this, and she made the urgency sweeter and gave back enough that the taking was mutual. It wasn’t her trying to grasp and claim. She already owned him.

That was good. He wanted her to be sure of him. He wanted her to know what she did to him and how to tie him in knots. The breathless sound she made when his hips ground against her might’ve tried to be a laugh, but it came out too strangled and needy. Good. He wanted her to need him, too. He was considerably taller than her, but they had both learned how to arch and bend to fit with each other. It was second nature now to find the angle that sent Marianne’s voice rising with her hips. If she rocked back a certain way, his spine could bow enough to let him reach her lips and throat. They could feel everything. 

The velvety blue flowers in her dress still kept a certain coolness. Maybe some part of the twilight they bloomed in clung to them. It made for a sweet contrast with their overheated bodies. His groan felt like it was coming out of his bones. It was such a relief to be buried as deeply as possible inside her and to hear her call for more. Harder and faster and _like that_ and when words finally failed her, the sounds she made were better. 

For the first time, he had a fleeting thought of what they must look like together, if someone were to see them. If someone were to open the door so see what all the commotion really was, there would be the contrast of chitins and skin, the sharp and the soft. The snarling, territorial part of him didn’t want to share with anyone, but the biting, exultant part wanted everyone to know who she had chosen, who was the only one allowed to do this and be this. 

It only lasted a moment before her fingernails dug into the base of his wings and sent every thought that wasn’t _yes oh more love you so much_ evaporating. Maybe he roared it. Maybe she did. The rose petals were buckling under them. The blue dress pooled around them like their own patch of Dark Forest. It was fine. It was right. They were home, no matter where they were, and no matter who might be raising eyebrows and pursing lips downstairs.


	12. Chapter 12

No one came to check on them so they had plenty of time to come back to themselves. It still took awhile for them to separate and Bog had rolled onto his back to give her more room. He was going to smell like crushed roses for days, but it was hard for him to mind very much. He had relaxed under her and let all the joint-cracking tension melt out. She squirmed a little to get perfectly comfortable and to hear his breathing hiss. 

“We’ll stay the night,” Marianne whispered. Her cheek rested on his chest and her hands traced up and down his arms. “Have the feast and then go home.”

Hearing her call the Dark Forest home would’ve turned him into pudding at his most irate. As he was, he just shivered happily. 

“Maybe Dawn can be named Dad’s heir,” she went on, mostly just thinking out loud. It got Bog’s attention though and he jolted. 

“I will not cost you your kingdom,” he said, sitting up enough to look at her. She ran a hand down his face, letting the amber ring drag along his jaw.

“Are you not giving me one already?” she teased. She saw it sink in, that she would be the Bog Queen of the Dark Forest, no separate castles or divided loyalties. She felt his fingers tighten as he realized what that meant. Goblins were a territorial bunch though, and she knew the thought of her losing her birthright without a fight would drive him crazy. His wings were already buzzing a little. She could feel the vibration through her and it made her imagine doing this in flight.

“Oh,” she said. Was she ever going to get tired of this? It didn’t seem likely. She hooked an arm around his head to pull him into a kiss. He had to bow his back to reach, but he flowed into it. The heat he produced had mostly cooled off his skin, but his tongue and the inside of his mouth were still unusually warm. It felt heavenly and she wanted it everywhere. He shuddered and moaned when she told him that.

They were still locked together so it wasn’t really an option right now, but something for him to consider for next time, which could be anytime, because she wasn’t going to be without for any longer than was absolutely necessary. He buried his face in her hair and she felt that warm tongue tease over the antennae nubs. It sent a blaze all the way to her toes and it was her turn to moan. Her whole body tightened against and around him, and he curled up around her, growling. 

“We aren’t ever going to be get apart, are we?” she tried to laugh when she could breathe again. The rumble he made sounded a lot like ‘never’ and she wrapped her arms around him to stroke and hold until both of them could be coherent again.

“Dawn can be Regent then, or Steward, or whatever they think to call it,” she said. “I’m only staying here while you are with me. The Dark Forest is home because you’re there. We’ll figure the rest out later. This is what’s important now.”

He hummed an answer and settled back down, turning the idea over. She rested her cheek on him again, feeling him relax again. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the crowd downstairs. There was upbeat music, too faint to hear the words. It was probably one of Sunny’s songs. Of course he would be helping Dawn deal with all of this. 

I should be helping too, Marianne thought. She gave an experimental squeeze and smiled. But I can’t. And even if I could, I would be just glad of any excuse to not have to go pretend I like small talk and decorating. Dawn was always better at that part. She’ll rule the Light Fields just fine. _If I let her_ , came a strange little thought and Marianne almost laughed again. Smashing borders had been what they had done since the beginning, so why not one more. One kingdom, one castle, two rulers.


	13. Chapter 13

Downstairs, there wasn’t any doubt about what had been going on. The chandelier had even shaken once. Two goblins near the throne muttered something about the royal couple being hard on light fixtures, which made the smaller one chuckle a little. The king had been stricken with awkwardness, so it been Dawn to step in again. She turned the standoff back into a celebration and had music and refreshments sent in. Her elf beau was quick to help her. He had rallied the other elves to set up a speedy bandstand and make enough noise to drown out what was happening upstairs. 

Dawn made sure everyone saw her kiss Sunny before he started to sing, and then went to ask Brutus to dance. The big goblin didn’t know what to do and looked around to the other goblins for help. Fang just shrugged at him. 

“It’s easy,” Dawn whispered. “I’ll show you. Come on.” And because he had no other plan, Brutus let himself be towed onto the dance floor. The Fairy King grimaced at the sight, but Sunny gave her a thumbs up as she got Brutus to twirl her. The royal fairy guard kept sneaking peeks at their king to see if he was really going to allow this. They would charge as soon as he gave the word, he knew. But one of the braver elves, Sunny’s big friend, had stepped up and asked another goblin to dance. It was much smaller than Brutus and had a beak of some kind. It looked around to make sure it was the one the elf was really asking and then bounced excitedly when he nodded. 

Maybe goblins weren’t so terrible, the king told himself desperately. Maybe they were just ugly and slimy and those sharp teeth and claws were for climbing trees and eating what? Frogs, maybe? It made him a little sick to think about,but then he remembered the feast. What was he going to feed a horde of goblins? Maybe fish? His stomach turned over at the thought of a smooth, silver-sided fish being torn to chunks and served at his table, but there had to be something. He didn’t want them to get hungry enough to forage for themselves. Who knew what they might decide was edible. 

He waved over some of the kitchen elves and sent them out to catch some minnows. He reminded himself that he was the king, and he had to keep control over this situation. Even if he could barely control his own daughters. No wonder the Bog King looked at him like he was the worst idiot breathing so often. Maybe it was because the Dark Forest was such a harsh place. If he had ruled these savages for so long and still kept the crown, the Bog King would have to be twice as fierce as his snarling subjects.

The Fairy Kingdom had been at peace for the last four generations. There were always problems here and there, like that snake that fit so neatly through elf windows at night, but not when it had five of the poor things swallowed down. Or that owl that the guards had to drive away when it decided that the Light Fields were easy hunting ground. But the Fairy King had never had to keep too tight a leash on his subjects because they generally fell into line on their own. They knew the rules and followed them. 

Goblins might be more contentious. Who could even guess what horrors they saw on a regular basis? What kind of king would they need to keep order in a place like that? 

The Fairy King knew he hadn’t impressed them. He had shown up too late to do any good when Roland and the Three had attacked the Dark Castle by themselves. He hadn’t been able to stop these same goblins from kidnapping Dawn at the elf ball. He had completely misjudged the situation with Marianne and Roland, but that might not be entirely his fault since she had refused to tell him exactly why. What was she not telling him now? But, she did seem happier with this arrangement. He made himself remember how easily her new smile had come out. A real smile, not just baring her teeth. 

He told himself he would be just as unsettled if she had been so marked and _satisfied_ from Roland’s attention, and yes, that was true. Roland would’ve had better manners than to make her scream while a celebration was going on, he thought, then reconsidered. The fairy knight hadn’t been above confronting Marianne at a ball, putting her on the very public spot to take him back. He had even dared to use the love potion on her in front of everyone! And if the reports were true, he wasn’t being shy about his new ladylove. Reports of traumatized witnesses came in every few days. He probably wouldn’t have been any more discrete with Marianne. 

I was no help there either, the King admitted to himself. I should’ve trusted her then, and maybe I should trust her now. All right. He took a deep breath and looked around. There were more fairies dancing now, and elves had joined in. Some of the goblins had been invited in and some were dancing with each other. Only the big toothy one over by the door wasn’t making any attempt to join in. It was standing guard, he realized. 

The kingly thing to do would be to ask one of his guests to dance, he thought, getting up again, but he was saved from trying to guess which goblin would be willing by Dawn. She had handed Brutus off to a green-winged fairy with a sweet giggle, and held her hands out to him. 

“You’re everyone’s hero today,” he told her, finally smiling. She made an airy gesture as if it was nothing, but then grinned.


	14. Chapter 14

“We probably should go downstairs,” Marianne murmured into a well-nibbled ear. “Take some of the attention off the others.”

“Everything’s fine,” Bog rumbled into her shoulder. “Fang would’ve knocked.” She considered that and couldn’t find fault with his logic. As bestial as the goblins seemed at first glance, Bog had been serious about keeping order in the Dark Forest and there was a system in place. He had divided up his strongest and most reliable into two factions: one to accompany him to the Fairy Kingdom, and the other to serve Griselda as she held down the fort. If Fang was on the job downstairs, then they would’ve been notified if they were needed.

Marianne stretched lazily, enjoying the feel of him over her whole body. There were advantages to his lanky height, and at the moment, her favorite one was that he could cover all of her. She remembered how he had blocked all her senses when the antennae were driving her crazy, so that all she could feel and see and smell and taste and hear was him. It was easier to think without the antennae, but she couldn’t help but wonder when they would be back. 

One of his hands snaked up into her hair just as she was thinking about it, and those deliciously pointed fingertips stroked over the smooth spots. Marianne shivered and whined, tilting her head into it. She didn’t hear the pleased sound he made, but she could feel it thrum against her skin. She didn’t need antennae to feel that vibrate all the way through her. 

“We could just stay in here until the feast tomorrow,” she said after awhile of enjoying that. 

“Will this party go on all night?” he asked.

“Not likely,” Marianne sighed. “It’ll go on until they run out of refreshments and the band gets tired.” 

“Where will my people be put for the night?” he asked suddenly. It had just occurred to him. 

“Our,” Marianne reminded him, but then had to think about it. As much as he might bully and bluster, he did take care of his own. He would rather have them asleep up here in her floor than be scattered around the castle. She sighed. “Dawn will do her best. I guess we will have to make an appearance again, just to make sure everything is taken care of.”

Neither one was anxious enough to start getting up right away. She scritched her fingers in the jagged edges down the back of his head. He liked that as much as she did. 

“Hey!” she said, an idea coming to her. “Would you dance with me?”

“O-of course,” he said, though she felt him tense a bit. “Here?”

“No, downstairs,” she squirmed a little to sit up and he slid to her lap to give her room. “I think it would mean a lot to Dad to see us dance. And we can show each other off.”

“Hunh,” he said. She could see him weighing the pros and cons quickly. He always wanted to show her off. He was delighted to be shown off. He wasn’t sure about what passed for dancing with fairy folk, but was willing to go along with it. He still wasn’t thrilled to be doing anything for the Fairy King’s benefit, but reminded himself that Marianne had put up with Griselda with only minimal horror. He didn’t know what his mother liked to whisper to her, but judging by the way Marianne’s eyes bugged when it happened, it wasn’t appropriate. She never complained, though. He could do that, too. To a point.

“All right,” Marianne said when she saw that he had no real objection besides the obvious disinclination to get up. “Three more, and then we’ll clean up and show them something.”

“Three more what?” he asked, even as his grin crept back. She smirked back and pulled him back into a kiss.


	15. Chapter 15

The dress had been squished and crinkled, but the deep blue petals kept their form. They just turned darker where they had been creased, so now they were veined with an even deeper color. It only took a few readjustments to get it back into shape. They had some quick cleaning up and finger-combing to do to get straightened out, and while they both smelled like sexy rose petals, they were presentable. 

It was tempting to just sit back down and soak each other up, but a drum roll from downstairs made them snort and grin at each other. Marianne pretended to fuss over the spidersilk scarf tucked around his collar for a moment. He had a few bite marks she wanted to be sure everyone saw, too. 

They were welcomed back by a cheer from the goblins. The fairies were in high spirits and clapped for them as well. Bog was glad to see that the goblins all looked cheerful and unharmed and he reminded himself that they were warriors in their own right and he really didn’t have to motherhen any of them, but was Brutus actually _waltzing??_

“That’s Dawn’s signature move,” Marianne whispered to him. “I bet she taught him.”

“Ah…” Bog wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he had his royal face back on. Marianne grinned at it. 

“I can teach you, too,” she said. “Keeping a straight face is the hard part.” She lead him out onto the dance floor and the crowd made room for them. Stuff hurried up to take the staff and hold it for him. It was the first time Bog had honestly been nervous since they had arrived. Everyone was looking and there wasn’t a graceful way out if it went wrong. But Marianne had his hands and she put them where they were supposed to go, and pulled him into step with the beat of the music. 

Dawn hugged herself happily at the sight of them. She saw her father’s face soften too. Marianne was laughing, laughing out loud, as she spun her fiancee into the first steps of a waltz. Ballroom dancing may have been unfamiliar to the Bog King, but gentleness with Marianne clearly wasn’t. He let her steer him into the motions and couldn’t keep the sheepish grin off his face when she cackled at him. 

“Told you!” she crowed, and they could hear his soft chuckle of agreement. 

“Look at them!” Dawn said, hugging her father next. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“You did,” he agreed, smiling at her. 

“I’m going to dance with Sunny!” she shot off into the crowd again and the Fairy King took a breath to brace himself. The bite marks on Bog actually made him feel better. If they could be that way and then be _this_ way, and it was mutual, and they were both clearly happy… Marianne’s face was warm and open in a way he hadn’t seen in years. The Bog King looked like an entirely different person when he was smiling. Maybe this really would be all right. 

Marianne finally dissolved in chortles and fluttered up off the floor to wrap her arms around Bog in a hug that rocked him back on his heels. Then they were both in the air, and the goblins were on stage and taking a turn on the instruments and the music changed. It was louder and faster and relied more on bass, but after a moment of uncertainty, it could be danced to. The goblins all joined in with the continued exception of the big bodyguard and the party went on, if more rowdy than before. 

“What’s that?” the goblin dancing with Pare asked loudly over the music. It pointed at the button on his sleeve.

“It’s a button,” the elf said. Goblins didn’t seem to wear much, but they did know about clothes. It squinted at the button a little suspiciously. 

“Why’s it so big?” it asked. Pare had to admit he didn’t know. It was an heirloom, he explained. His family had always had it, but details of where it had come from were hazy. The goblin looked thoughtful.

“We find things,” it said. “In the bog sometimes. My sister-in-law’s family has a big needle. Made of bone.”

“That’s amazing!” Pare said. “I wonder what it means?”

“Meh?” the goblin shrugged. “They say our ancestors used to be bigger.”

It was Pare’s turn to think that over, but then had to duck. The Bog King had gotten his staff back and was using it to spin as he and Marianne sang along with whatever goblin song this was. His dance partner was hopping and stomping excitedly, so the big elf shrugged and started to do it too. There was a lot to be learned here.


	16. Chapter 16

It was long after midnight when even the elves finally couldn’t sing anymore. The refreshment table had been emptied and restocked at least three times. The fairies were all heading home on foot, dragging their weary wings behind them. Everyone was talking and giggling. There were a few half-hearted attempts to clean up, but the Fairy King declared it enough for one night, especially since the sun would be rising soon. 

Everyone needed to get their rest for the feast tomorrow, so rooms were found for whoever wasn’t going to make it home. The goblins had been prepared to bed down wherever they happened to be. They were surprised to be shown to actual bedrooms. Watching Brutus and Fang circle the flower beds to figure out the best plan of approach made Marianne bite back a chuckle. The smaller goblins all piled in together, snuggling into the petals. There were a few sneezes and comments on how strong the flower smell was, but none of them really complained. 

Bog had gone along to make sure all his subjects were well-treated. Marianne had ended up perched on one of his shoulders, leaning on his head. Somehow, he still managed to look formidable. He didn’t snarl at anyone, and elves and fairies were speaking to him directly now, but they were still treading carefully. Marianne knew he was enjoying that. Even making an effort not to be terrifying, he still liked making strangers flinch. 

The best part was when some of the Royal Guard offered to escort him to his own chambers. It hadn’t even occurred to Bog to stay anywhere but with Marianne and he had barked out a laugh before he realized they were serious. Then, he laughed even harder. 

“Ha,” he said when they were properly unnerved. He leaned over them to remind them how much bigger he was. “No.”

“Arrangements have already been made for His Highness,” Marianne said, grinning evilly to counteract the formality. The guards squirmed and she found herself enjoying their discomfort as much as he was. She knew they hadn’t all been Roland’s supporters, but they certainly hadn’t gone to any trouble to support her either. Let them squirm. 

Dawn fluttered up to wish them both a good night with a wicked twinkle of her own. She gave them both a kiss on the cheek and then landed to take Sunny’s hand. The guards didn’t offer to separate them, Marianne noticed. Were they allowed to sleep together? It seemed hard to imagine. Even when they had been just best friends as children, there had been no sleepovers. 

Bog was already walking away. He headed back to her room. The doors were high enough that he didn’t have duck to get her in without bumping her against the top. She slid down to the floor, dress and wings trailing over him on the way. She turned around to go up on her toes and hug him. Neither of them was going to admit that they had worn each other out, but it was nice to just sag into each other and be held up for a moment. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she teased. He hrmmed into her hands. 

She reached out and took the staff from his hand. It was always heavier than she expected it to be, probably because he swung it around so easily. She only oofed a little to lean it against the wall by the bed with her sword, but he still grinned over it. She gave him a light kick to the shin, not hard enough to hurt either of them, and he laughed outright then. It was a completely different sound from when he had laughed at the guards. There wasn’t any mockery in it. 

Marianne hugged him again and let her hands trail down his back to make him shiver before turning to show her back to him. She heard his breathing catch just a little and slipped the petals off her shoulders. The dress slid off into a puddle and she stepped out of it. His hands and breath ghosted over her bare skin. She turned back to him and helped loosen the sharper, pointer pieces. He let her, happier to touch her than undress himself. 

She halfway expected him to post a goblin guard outside. Maybe he had finally relaxed or had at least been satisfied that no one here was any threat to him. A kiss on the nose wasn’t quite enough of a reward for that, but she had other plans. He ruined that by scooping up the staff again and using it to bar the doors shut. She snorted on a laugh. 

“I should’ve known,” she said, fluttering backwards onto the bed. It had either been perfectly repaired by her attendants or replaced completely. The petals were fresh and perfect again. 

“That I would protect you with my life?” he said, pacing back. In the weak, pre-dawn light, he looked hunched and beady-eyed. “Yes, you should’ve.”

“Aha, but what if they try to come in the window?” she asked, wiggling her fingers at him. 

“You’ll still have your sword,” he said, flitting his wings back at her. He had to kneel to crawl under the canopy, so she rolled to give him room. He grabbed her around the waist before she could go far and pulled her up against him. 

“Fine,” she sighed, snuggling up and feeling his long limbs curling around her. “I’ll protect you from the window. You protect me from the door.”

“Fine,” he agreed. They settled in, shifting together until the perfect fit was found. They both sighed, which would have been embarrassing if they weren’t so tired and content. Their breathing synchronized and it was a long moment before Marianne spoke again. 

“Did I tell you you were perfect?” she asked. Her voice sounded almost asleep.

“Not in your right mind,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her ear.

“I’ll say it now then,” she said. “You have made this everything I could’ve wanted. Anyone who couldn’t see how perfect you are for me wasn’t even looking.” She gave him a moment to process that. She could feel his blush against the back of her head and the way he tried to keep his breathing steady. After everything they had done together, to think she could still fluster him pleased her. 

“I don’t frolic at a fairy ball for just anyone,” he said when he got his words together. She had to chuckle at that.

“Really? Only me?”

“Only you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended this one here even though I had thought of some plot. That will happen in another fic. There’s some politics, and grossness, and carnage, so I decided it was best to end this one here. Thanks for reading!


End file.
